


Just Do It

by Jojorice



Series: Isagi Yoichi has a Mental Breakdown [2]
Category: Blue Lock (Manga)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bachira kinda flips his switch, Bathroom Sex, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Smut, Stupidity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:07:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29321379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jojorice/pseuds/Jojorice
Summary: It all starts from a seemingly innocuous conversation over a plate of spaghetti, and then the next thing you know, Bachira and Isagi are canoodling it up in a bathroom stall.
Relationships: Bachira Meguru/Isagi Yoichi
Series: Isagi Yoichi has a Mental Breakdown [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139150
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Just Do It

**Author's Note:**

> I totally forgot I wrote this! The characters are probably a little ooc, but hope you all enjoy nonetheless.

Isagi finds himself staring at himself in the mirror of their communal bathroom, mouthwash dripping out of his mouth and face blank. _This seems to be a recurring thing_ , the back of his mind supplies unhelpfully, and he leans down to spit the rest of the mouthwash out, body moving on autopilot. Once again, Isagi doesn’t know why everything happens the way it happens. But if he has to pick the source, he’d guessed it all started during that one conversation, a couple days ago...

It all starts one day at the canteen, in the middle of lunch. The group’s conversationally talking about different tactics and plays when Bachira puts down his cup of juice, staring down at the orange liquid distractedly.

“What’s on your mind, Bachira?” Chigiri says, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. “Thinking about the upcoming U-20 match?”

“...Yeah,” Bachira says slowly, a glimmer in his eyes and a smile growing on his lips, “My blood gets up and running just thinking about it!”

“That Oliver guy’s obviously dangerous,” Gagamaru mumbles as he picks at a dumpling with his hands, “but we don’t know much about any of their plays until we see them in action.” He stretches his hands out with a pop above his head. “My synapses will have to be at peak performance.”

“Dude, use some chopsticks already,” Raichi groans, shoving a pair of clean chopsticks in the other’s direction. “Your hands are nasty.” Gagamaru promptly ignores him and throws another steaming dumpling into his mouth, wiping his fingers on Raichi. Raichi’s eye twitches, and he lunges for Gagamaru, the two of them battling at the corner of the table, sending food everywhere. Igaguri grumbles and shifts closer to Isagi, lifting his tray to serve as a makeshift shield.

Barou snorts and viciously shoves a piece of steak in his mouth. “Their defense may be good, but no one’s impenetrable.” He stabs another piece of steak emphatically, “Unfortunately, you twats are on the field-” he points his fork at Isagi, eyes narrowing, “-and if any of you shitheads slip up, I’ll snatch up your position and devour you in a second.”

“Oooh, big words from someone on the bench,” Nagi says around a mouthful of rice, monotone, and smoothly dodges a flying fork from Barou with practiced ease. “Ha. Missed me.” Barou stands up, sending his chair flying back, and both Bachira and Chigiri have to grab onto him to keep him from flying off the handle. 

“Well, there’s only so much we can do in practice,” Isagi sighs, putting down his chopsticks, “no matter how much we prepare, we can’t actually simulate the real thing.” Barou settles back in his seat with an emphatic grunt, a vein twitching in his forehead. 

“True, that applies to all things,” Chigiri says thoughtfully, placing a chin on the palm on his hand, “even outside of football.”

“Really?” Bachira says, leaning into Isagi’s side as he swipes a piece of steak off his plate and shoves it into his mouth. “Evwerythign? Evwen...Evwen sleeping?” A piece of meat goes flying out of his mouth.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, silly,” Isagi snorts fondly, and he wipes a piece of sauce off the side of Bachira’s mouth, who brightens up immediately, preening into his touch as if he were a tamed animal. If Raichi fake gags in the back and Barou’s eyes narrow in a face of mild disgust, Isagi is nonetheless wiser.

“Then _hwow_ do you prepare for anywthing if pwactice nwever compares?” Igaguri chimes in around a mouthful of food, a mountain of rice leaning precariously in his bowl.

“You just do it,” Nagi says, picking at his salad and lifting up a wilted piece of lettuce. “This piece of lettuce kinda looks like a monkey.”

“...You just do it?” Bachira chimes in, suddenly leaning forward in interest.

“Well ideally, you want to learn all you can about it first,” Chigiri says, shrugging, “but if you find that you can’t prepare for it, then yeah, the best way is to just do it.”

“Have you learned nothing, mophead?” Barou scowls, raising an eyebrow. “We’ve all been improving through our matches, not our training.”

“Pfft, I know that already,” Bachira says, nonchalantly rocking back and forth in his chair, completely ignoring Barou as his eye twitches, “I just didn’t know that was how it was for _everything_.”

Gagamaru lifts a long finger, lips pursed, “An example is eating. The food is there, and you have your hands, but you don’t know how to use the utensils. You haven’t practiced, so what do you do? You use your hands and just put the food in your mouth-”

“Now that’s a stupid example,” Raichi snaps, slapping a hand over Gagamaru’s mouth. “Everyone knows how to use chopsticks except for you, idiot.” 

“Oh, oh, oh, I’ve got one,” Igaguri chimes in, pointing his chopsticks emphatically, “Back when I was supposed to take over for the temple, we were supposed to have a vegetarian diet. I didn’t think it would be bad, so I tried the diet for two days,” he looks down at his steak in distant horror, “...and I missed meat so, so much…” 

“All these examples are so lame,” Barou snorts, shoving another piece of steak into his mouth.

“You got anything better?!” Igaguri snaps back, shoving another huge chunk of meat in his mouth and then melting in bliss. “Oh, how I love meat…”

Barou rolls his eyes. “Of course not. Unlike you plebeians, I focus solely on soccer.”

“I’ve got one,” Nagi says offhandedly, distractedly poking a cherry tomato around on his plate, “it also applies to e-sports. You can practice all you want, but the vibe's different in an official competition.”

“You stinky gaming freak,” Barou mutters under his breath. 

Nagi looks over at him, eyes narrowed. “You poophead looking-”

“-Okay, okay, okay! That’s enough,” Chigiri coughs from in between them, pushing the two away from each other. “No name calling.” Barou grunts in annoyance as Nagi shrugs and goes back to eating his salad.

Bachira purses his lips, knees hugged to his chest as he leans forward in his chair. “I guess I kinda get it…”

Chigiri smiles, pushing back his chair and stretching his arms. “That’s good. You get it now?”

Bachira nods vigorously as he bounces up and down in his chair, smiling brightly, “Yep! So if I wanna fuck Isagi, I should just put my dick up his-” Isagi chokes on his juice and promptly spits it out onto Igaguri’s face while the table explodes into chaos.

“WoAhHhwOAhWoah-” Raichi cuts in, waving his arms, “Stop right there-”

“Agghhh my eyes!” Igaguri wails, wiping the juice out frantically with a napkin, “They burn-”

“That’s exactly it,” Nagi unhelpfully supplies. “Just shove it up-”

“-Nagi! Stop! You’re not exactly helping,” Chigiri groans, shoving his face into his hands.

“Ah, young love,” Gagamaru says offhandedly as he throws another dumpling. “This dumpling is good.”

“You two fuckers _better_ not do it in our room,” Barou growls, standing up from his seat.

“What’s with all the commotion?” Bachira leans into Isagi’s side, eyes wide in confusion.

“...Can I die now?” Isagi groans, face flushing bright red, sinking down into his seat.

\----

“I don’t know why everyone reacted like that,” Bachira offhandedly says later as he stretches with Isagi at the end of training that night, matted curls sticking to his forehead as he touches his toes with unbelievable agility, “Barou’s been glaring at me all throughout practice.”

“...Yeah,” Isagi says unhelpfully, the cogs in his mind frozen in place, “Yep. Dunno why either.”

There’s a moment of silence as they both continue stretching before Bachira turns to look at him, a small blush on his cheeks and a shy smile on his face. “....I-Isagi, what do you think?” He looks at the tip of his toes, hands wrapping around his shoe’s soles as his ears flush even brighter, “Are you...into that too?” 

Isagi stares at Bachira in equal parts embarrassment and wonder. _He wasn’t embarrassed blurting that out in front of everyone but he’s embarrassed now?_

“Isagi?”

“I, well, I- I mean…” Isagi stammers nervously, Bachira’s words spiraling in his head, “Well I uh, I guess, I uh-” His treacherous mind thinks about Bachira kissing him fervently, mouth soft and hot and tongue all wet and entangled with his own, one hand shoved underneath his briefs and two fingers deep in his-

“Mmhmmm, go on,” Bachira says encouragingly, golden eyes bright and attentive on Isagi as he switches positions, now stretching his calves. Isagi nearly slams his head into the ground. He can’t do this.

“-I” - _just spit something out, you coward- “_ I, uh, yeah. Yep.” Isagi snaps his mouth shut, cheeks heating up rapidly. He shoves his head in between his legs, giving a weak thumbs up. “Sounds greahggfk.” He thinks he sounds like a dying cactus, if cacti could scream. 

He nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels two hands press into his shoulders, and he looks up to see Bachira looking down at him, lips pressed into a concerned frown, head tilted to the side. “Are you sure?” Bachira asks, voice soft and uncertain, “because-”

“-No, I _really_ want to-” Isagi’s backpedaling, struggling for words.

“-We can always wait-” Bachira interrupts, grip tightening on Isagi’s shoulders.

“-I’m just embarrassed-” Isagi manages to get out, the heat in his cheeks rising to his ears.

“-I don’t wanna push you-” Bachira counters, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. 

“BACHIRA, I _WANT_ YOU TO FUCK ME!” Isagi yells at the top of his lungs, chest heaving and face blazing, and he only realizes he just yelled this aloud in the middle of the field when some guy wolf whistles in the back and Barou yells “Not in our shared room, he ain’t!” Rin shoots him a disgusted look, Chigiri slaps his hand to his head, Igaguri gives him a lecherous grin, and everyone else? Well everyone else is just staring awkwardly at the two of them, and Isagi wants to launch himself into the sun.

“Oh, okay,” Bachira smiles brightly, cheeks pink and hands grasping Isagi’s own, swinging it in between them, “Well then why didn’t you just say so earlier, silly?” With that he leans forward and presses a kiss to Isagi’s lips, gaze all fond and affectionate, and Isagi hugs Bachira back tightly because he’s embarrassed himself already and the other is being simply irresistible. 

“We should still take it a step at a time,” Isagi mumbles into Bachira’s hair, ears turning red, “no...just shoving your dick up my ass. It doesn’t really work like that.” Bachira erupts into giggles and burrows his head deeper into the crook of Isagi’s sweaty neck, breath cool against his skin. Isagi resists the urge to peck the other on the cheek, hold tightening around him, then does it anyway, urging even more giggles out of Bachira. 

“I don’t really know anything about sex,” Bachira murmurs against his neck, pulling back to peer up at Isagi, cheeks flushed pink, golden eyes bright, “will you teach me?” Isagi knows absolutely nothing about dating, and even less about sex.

“Yeah, of course,” Isagi’s treacherous mouth says instead, and Bachira smiles even brighter.

When Isagi leaves Bachira’s room that night, giving the other one final sleepy cuddle and a good night kiss (much to the chagrin and disgust of Bachira’s roommates), he speeds back to his room, whips out his phone, and promptly searches up the words, ‘ _how to gay sex?_ ’ in the search bar. He’s immediately assaulted with articles of sex safety and HIV and all sorts of crazy pictures of sex positions that will be seared into his brain _forever_. Instead, Isagi decides to take a couple steps back, start from the beginning, and if he stays up late hiding under the covers watching tutorial videos on how to clean your bum, no one is the wiser.

\----

So the first thing Isagi tries to do in complete privacy is finger himself, because that’s the first step to getting used to things going up his butt. The only problem is Blue Lock is practically a prison block with very little privacy, and the only time he finds himself alone are in the fleeting moments between training or eating or resting- when leaving the weight room, being the last to exit his room, or walking down the hall- and he’s not about to finger himself in the hall, because that would be really stupid, and not exactly private. More importantly, how can one finger themselves when they’re walking? They can’t. So Isagi had to find another option, and find another option he did.

After giving a flimsy excuse at dinner about how his stomach hurts, Isagi rushed to the bathroom, found an empty stall, locked the door, might have waited for the last person to exit, then got down to business. Using some lotion that was really meant for moisturizing rather than lube, he sucks in a deep breath and cautiously spreads some of the cream over his fingers, heating up the substance in between his fingers. 

Cheeks flushed bright red and sweaty hair plastered to his forehead, Isagi cautiously pulls down his pants and reaches around behind his ass, pressing the tip of a finger inside. He bites his lip nervously as he leans against the cool locked door, back arching as he slowly wiggles it in deeper, the tight heat a bizarre sensation around his finger. His wet hole inadvertently clenches against the intrusion, and after a lot of deep breaths and internal freak outs and exploration, Isagi finally manages to push his finger all the way into his hole up the second knuckle, starting to get used to the foreign feeling of something being up his ass.

_Okay, okay, I can do this._ Isagi sucks in a breath, leaning further against the door as he slips in a second digit, pumping his fingers back in and out with a little more force. Sweat drips down his nape as soft gasps inadvertently escapes his lips, the only barely audible sound filling his ears in the currently empty bathroom. The sensation doesn’t feel good, really, quite yet, but it isn’t unpleasant, which is more than enough motivation for him. Forging on with a little more confidence than he started, he continues his ministrations, taking his time scissoring his fingers and stretching his tight hole until it feels like he can take another finger-

“-Isagi? Is your stomach feeling better?” Bachira’s voice echoes in the bathroom, and Isagi freezes, two fingers up his ass, hair plastered to his skin, cheeks slowly flushing tomato red. When did Bachira get in here? He didn’t even hear the door open. “You’ve been in here for a while.” 

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” Isagi says shakily, cursing the breathiness in his voice, and he quickly pulls his fingers out, except they make a wet pop that clearly echoes in the bathroom, Isagi freaks out, slips on his stupid bottle of lotion on the floor, and promptly smacks the middle of his forehead into the wall with a loud _BAM!_

“Isagi?!” Bachira’s voice echoes in the bathroom, clearly worried. “Is everything okay?”

“Owww,” Isagi groans, rubbing at the centre of his head, and suddenly, the door swings open, revealing Bachira looking down at him, golden eyes bright and wide, a hand still in the air from pushing the door. They stare at each other for a moment before Isagi realizes he’s sitting on the floor, pants pulled down his ass, bottle of lotion spilled on the floor, and cheeks flushed red.

“I-I can explain,” Isagi stammers in embarrassment, a swell of mortification growing in his chest, and before he can get any further, Bachira steps in, closes the door behind him and smashes his mouth onto Isagi’s, his soft lips warm and hot and insistent. He presses Isagi back until his back knocks against the stall’s wall, and all Isagi can do is get swept up in Bachira’s almost-aggressive pace, their teeth occasionally knocking against each other awkwardly, his grip almost bruisingly tight on Isagi’s hips.

When it gets a little hard to breathe, Isagi inadvertently opens his mouth, if only to gasp for air, and Bachira takes the chance to plunge his tongue inside, dragging the tip of it flat across the top of Isagi’s mouth, tracing all the ridges and divots. All Isagi can do is cling onto Bachira’s shoulders in a hazy stupor, oxygen stolen and chest heaving, lost in the sensation of Bachira’s ministrations as he almost lazily, skillfully continued to explore Isagi’s cavern, as if mapping out every part of it and imprinting it into his brain.

“B-Bachira-” Isagi gasps in the other’s mouth, strands of saliva connecting their lips, breath hot against his skin, “I-I c-can’t-” he’s interrupted when Bachira plunges his tongue in again, the wet muscle entangling with Isagi’s own, effectively stealing his breath away again.

“Hmmm?” Bachira murmurs inquisitively into the other’s mouth, running his tongue over the ridge of Isagi’s teeth as his thumbs rub bruising circles into Isagi’s hips. He finally pulls away with a wet pop, swollen red lips wet with saliva and Isagi finds himself pinned to the wall with Bachira’s golden gaze, intense and ardently focused on him. 

“...Couldn’t breathe,” Isagi laughs awkwardly, suddenly feeling a little naked and breathless under the other's searching gaze, and Bachira offers a mischievous smirk before he dives in again, pressing kisses and nibbles on Isagi’s neck, hands wandering lower to grab Isagi’s ass.

“I’ll let you breathe a little then,” Bachira giggles breathily into Isagi’s marked skin, practically manhandling the other as he pulls him up onto his lap. His hands roam under the band of Isagi’s pants and he tugs them down his legs, throwing them carelessly to the side. He briefly tears his lips away from Isagi’s skin to look down at Isagi’s freed and very swollen member, the tip flushed a bright red. Curling his hand around it without a second thought, Bachira runs a thumb over the slit, already leaking precum, and jerks his hand loosely up and down, leaning back in to press heated kisses and nibbles to Isagi’s neck. Isagi hisses at the contact as a jolt of pleasure runs through him, inadvertently grasping at the other’s soft curls.

“Feel good baby?” Bachira breathes hotly against Isagi’s neck, chuckling a little when Isagi’s body inadvertently jerks to the pet name, grip tightening in his hair. 

“Mhmm, f-feels good,” Isagi moans a little breathlessly, not really sure where this switch in the other turned on, but enjoying it immensely. He groans as Bachira’s grip tightens around his member, putting more pressure as he speeds up. Isagi finds his hips bucking up clumsily to the rhythm of Bachira’s hand, tension coiled tight in his groin, and before he knows it, he’s cumming into Bachira’s hand, broken moans echoing in the bathroom. He cracks open his eyes, lashes clumped together from sweat, chest heaving, and sees a tent in Bachira’s own sweatpants, a wet spot forming at the tip. A swell of affection and motivation rises in his chest, and suddenly, he really wants to deliver, despite his complete lack of experience.

Reaching out for the other’s member, Isagi palms Bachira’s member through his clothes, leaning forward to murmur in Bachira’s ear, “Let me suck you off,” and as if to enunciate it, he mouths a sloppy kiss on the shell of Bachira’s ear, “babe.”

Bachira sucks in a sharp breath and gets to his knees, gazing at Isagi intently from under his thick lashes as he pulls down his pants, freeing his hardened and swollen member, a strand of precum dribbling off the side. “Do it.” He pushes his tousled hair back, strands plastered to his skin, and Isagi finds himself thinking that Bachira Meguru is simultaneously the most adorable yet gorgeous man he’d ever seen.

“So pretty,” Isagi murmurs a little deliriously as he leans in to press a tender kiss to Bachira’s leaking cock, his other hand coming up to wrap tightly around the base. Opening his mouth, he slides the member into his mouth, the taste slightly bitter and weight heavy on his tongue, lips wrapped tightly around Bachira’s girth. He pulls off with a lewd pop and licks the tip before he plunges it back into his mouth, Bachira’s grip tight in his hair. 

“Keep going,” Bachira moans huskily, hips bucking slightly into Isagi’s mouth. Isagi looks up to see Bachira gazing at him intently, cheeks flushed and eyes bright as if he was looking at something invaluable. “You’re doing great, baby.”

Filled with a sudden burst of motivation, Isagi hums around Bachira’s cock, bobbing his head back and forth as he tries to relax his throat. He nearly gags when the tip hits the back of his throat, saliva pooling out of his mouth and dripping off his lips, but he must be doing something right because all Bachira does is murmur breathless praises, hips thrusting faster as he chases the wet heat of Isagi’s mouth. Isagi’s jaw aches and his throat’s sore, but he eagerly complies until Bachira’s hips stutter, a sharp gasp breaking past his lips. A flood of warm and bitter cum fills Isagi’s mouth without warning, and Isagi clumsily does his best to swallow it down even though most of it really just dribbles past his lips and onto the floor. Isagi coughs and gags, tears beading at the corner of his eyes, but when he looks up at Bachira, the other’s looking at him as if he’s the most precious thing in the world, even though he probably has spit and cum all over his face, and generally looks like shit.

“Come here,” Bachira says fondly, reaching a hand out to pull Isagi up, and he pushes him against the wall, pressing a soft kiss to his objectively gross mouth. They kiss languidly and lazily, hands roaming slowly over each other’s bodies, and Isagi jolts when he feels Bachira’s hands roam to his ass, an inquisitive finger probing gently at his entrance. Bachira pulls away to look at Isagi almost shyly, a smile on his swollen lips, “...Can I?”

Isagi looks away, cheeks burning in embarrassment. “I...I don’t actually know how to do this, Bachira,” he mumbles quietly, burying his face into the other’s neck. “I was just trying to practice a little…” he trails off as he implodes, unwilling to say more.

“Then let’s just do it,” Bachira giggles, as if that was the most obvious answer. “We can be silly together.” He pulls away to look at Isagi, eyes fond and cheeks flushed, “I’ll be gentle, okay?”

Isagi nods slightly, cheeks flushed, and Bachira smiles affectionately before he pushes the other’s thighs apart, squirting lotion onto his fingers. Leaning in, Bachira presses a soft kiss to Isagi’s lips as he reaches down to circle a finger around Isagi’s entrance, warming up the lotion before pressing a finger in. Isagi instinctively clenches down on the intrusion, wincing a little from the action.

“You’re tight,” Bachira murmurs against Isagi’s lips, “try to relax a little?” 

“O-Okay,” Isagi mumbles, relaxing a little more as Bachira presses kisses to the side of his neck, the finger circling inside his hole, moving back and forth. It’s not long before Bachira slowly adds in another lubed up finger and another one, taking his time scissoring his fingers and stretching Isagi’s hole, probing around inside his wet heat. All Isagi can hear are his own breathy moans intermingling with the wet, lewd sounds of his ass, echoing loudly in the bathroom. Bachira’s cock, now fully hard, presses insistently into the inside of Isagi’s leg, smearing a dribble of precum on his thigh. 

“I-I’m ready now,” Isagi says breathlessly, legs slightly shaking and gripping Bachira’ shoulders, “you can put it in.”

“...You sure?” Bachira says, pulling back to look Isagi in the eye. 

“Fuck me,” Isagi says, jerking Bachira’s head down into a searing kiss, and Bachira immediately complies, kissing back fervently as he lines his cock up with Isagi’s twitching hole.

“Take a deep breath,” Bachira says, and Isagi bites his lip as he feels Bachira’s length breach his entrance, slowly sliding in bit by bit. It feels almost frustratingly slow, the process, the heat, the pressure, and after painstakingly moving in inch by inch, Bachira finally manages to seat himself entirely inside Isagi’s ass. Isagi sucks a breath in as he slowly adjusts to the pressure, Bachira's girth hot and heavy and thick inside him.

“You feel so tight and warm inside,” Bachira grunts huskily, cheeks flushed and eyelashes fluttering, hands coming to bruisingly grip either side of Isagi’s hips, “Is it supposed to feel this good?”

“I-I’m glad,” Isagi laughs, legs shaking and voice wavering, “Bachira, I-I don’t think I can stand any-”

“I got you,” Bachira says, and with almost practiced ease, he hefts Isagi up, wrapping his legs around his hips, and pushes him into the wall with a thrust, inadvertently pushing his cock in deeper than before. Isagi gasps, head craning back, and Bachira stills, eyes blazing as he gazes at Isagi intently waiting for permission to move.

“Bachira,” Isagi finally moans, shifting his hips from the movement, “y-you can start moving now.” 

And as if taken off a leash, Bachira snaps his hips up forcefully, pegging Isagi against the wall with a brutal rhythm, the lewd sounds of lotion and humping and gasping filling the bathroom, echoing everywhere. All Isagi can do is cling onto Bachira’s neck, saliva dripping from his lips, tears beading in his eyes, hips shaking and pleasure jolting in him as the Bachira’s cock pried him open, driving deep and strong and _good_. He suddenly feels an overwhelming sensation of pleasure as Bachira hits a certain spot of him, inadvertently sending his body into a spasm.

“Isagi?” Bachira grunts breathlessly, still pounding in him relentlessly, “What was that?”

“D-do it again,” Isagi moans, pressing a sloppy kiss to Bachira’s neck, and Bachira delivers as he snaps his hips up at the right angle, reaching that particular spot. Isagi gasps wantonly, cheeks flushed and lashes fluttering, body limp, and he slumps against Bachira’s embrace as the other continues to thrust relentlessly into him, eyes blazing as he gazes down at Isagi with a fiery intensity, as if imprinting every second of that moment into his memory. “F-feels good,” Isagi mutters, feeling overwhelmed to the point of bordering pleasure and pain.

With one final thrust, Bachira groans as his hips stutter, and Isagi feels warm cum flood inside him, squelching as it drips outside the rim of his asshole and onto the floor. Lewd, wet sounds echo in the bathroom as Bachira pulls out with a soft sigh, strong arms catching Isagi as he buckles and slumps down the wall onto the floor, feeling used, satiated, and thoroughly _debauched_.

Bachira slumps down on top of him, sighing as he pulls a limp Isagi into his lap, a content and shy smile spreading on his face, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. The two of them lie there, leaning against the bathroom stall for a little bit, and if Isagi curls into Bachira’s loose embrace or nuzzles his nose against his neck or mindlessly plays with his hands, Bachira indulgently lets him.

“...That felt good,” Isagi says after their moment of content silence, voice hoarse and throat sore and ass aching, but feeling absolutely on top of the moon. “...Did you feel good too?”’

“You were amazing,” Bachira says breathlessly, leaning his head back onto the wall, closing his eyes. “...We should do it again, later.” Isagi raises an eyebrow and looks up at Bachira before the two of them burst into laughter, the sound ringing in the empty bathroom.

“You were right,” Isagi says as he looks up at Bachira, who’s looking down at him fondly, and he smiles back, cheeks flushing anyway despite everything that happened. “We can just figure things out together.”

**Author's Note:**

> I struggle writing smut but I wrote this because I am that d e s p e r a t e for more BachiraxIsagi smutty goodness. Someone! Please! More! Smut!


End file.
